She traces the timer on her wrist without even thinking about it. It's not counting. Of course, it's not counting. She zeroed out at midnight – the official start of her husband's eighteenth birthday. Her sister stayed up with her, wanting to be there to see the numbers end. Maybe it's a nervous habit now. It's supposed to be comforting. Or at least, it used to be comforting, when she was smaller and the numbers were bigger. They had seemed infinite.
For the last week – or month or year, depending on how you look at it – she's only been made nervous by the numbers. Not that worrying helps. It's just like her mother and sister. How they wanted to come to the Justice Building early so that they could meet Katniss' other half and make sure she would be okay that night and every night afterwards. There was absolutely nothing they could do about it if Katniss wasn't going to be okay. They like to fool themselves, though, and so does Katniss.
So she pretends like it's just a normal day when her sister starts to bounce her leg and asks "Where is he?"
She nudges Prim in the arm with her elbow. Tries to look more wounded than she is, just so her sister will know she's kidding. "In such a hurry to get rid of me, Little Duck?" she asks.
Her joke is met with silence. Her family is taking this whole thing more seriously than she is. This doesn't come as a surprise to her. She would have worn her jeans today. Intended on it, honestly, because what's the point of trying to sell her husband on a version of herself he's never going to see again? It's not like it'll ever change the outcome. He doesn't even have to like her. That's nowhere in the rules. Her mother and sister made such a big production out of it, though, pleading with her to wear the dress her mother wore on her eighteenth birthday. She was only going to get married once, after all, and of all the things to look nice for, this, they claimed, was it. Katniss reluctantly agreed to try it on, and they claimed that it was a sign that it fit. It didn't even fit. Not really. The dress, judging by the picture Katniss has seen of her young mother and father, went down to her mother's knees when she wore it to the Justice Building. Katniss isn't particularly tall, so that translates to this awkward length partway down her shins that makes her look even shorter than she is.
She wore it, though, to make them happy. Just like she let them pin her hair to her head in this updo that's going to take her forever to figure out how to take down, and just like she let them try to show her how to run a household. As if any of them would have been there at all if Katniss didn't know how to keep things running. She made sure not to express that, though, because she knew as well as they did that she had precious little time left being an Everdeen, and she certainly didn't want to waste it by arguing with them. So she coasted through the last week, making less trips out to the woods than she ought to have just so that her mother could tell stories and give advice about what it was like to be a young wife and what Katniss ought to know. Just so that Prim could remind her of the fact that Gale turned out okay, and everyone knows how hesitant he was about the whole thing. Katniss knew that, too. Probably much more than her sister knows. But she didn't fight with her, just nodded in meek agreement that everything would end up fine.
"You would think he would be here by now, is all," her sister continues, and she wonders if maybe she thinks Katniss was being serious. She doesn't make the mistake of trying to turn it into a joke this time. Besides, her sister has a point, no matter how ridiculously early they were, their noon appointment is approaching quickly, and they wouldn't let Katniss sign in without her husband present. She wonders what would happen if he just didn't come. Rationally, she knows that the Peacekeepers would probably hunt him down. He'd be whipped or made time to spend time in the stocks, just to prove a point. But would they punish her? Would they force her to marry someone who so clearly didn't want to be married to her? Most likely, yes. But she's wondering if maybe this is how she can get out of this when the Justice Building doors creak open. There goes that theory, then.
Peeta Mellark's eyes widen a little bit when he sees her. It takes away from the way he's been put together today, with the styled hair and slightly-too-big suit. He glances around the Justice Building, looking at the clock and at the empty bench across from the one Katniss and her family have occupied. She doesn't blame him for checking, really. Kids from Town are almost unfailingly matched with other kids from Town. He was probably expecting to find some nice girl like Delly Cartwright here waiting for him, not her. He finally looks back at her, and he's just wet his lips and moved as if to say something when her timer starts to chime.
It's louder than she expected it to be. She's never really heard one go off before, and it makes Peeta Mellark flinch too, so maybe her reaction is to be expected. His timer joins in, filling in every space that hers leaves off. It lasts much longer than either of them expects it to. She can tell because she keeps thinking it's over and he keeps trying to talk and clearing his throat. Prim gives her a shove, and she's not sure why this is the sort of thing one is supposed to stand up for, but it seems like it is, so she takes her sister's unspoken advice and stands a few feet away from him while they wait for the song to end. She surprises herself by being the first to speak.
"I don't think I caught that."
Peeta laughs, reaching up as if to run his hand through his hair and then thinking better of it, grabbing at the back of his neck instead. Maybe he doesn't want to ruin his hairstyle before the picture is taken. She doesn't blame him. Though it does remind her how irritated she is with the way her hair is pinned up today. "Well, first I was going to ask if you were here for the noon signing, and then I was going to say that I wasgoing to ask that but obviously you are."
She nods. Prim clears her throat, as if Katniss wasn't already planning on shaking his hand. Does she honestly think that she wouldn't be able to do this on her own? Prim must be particularly anxious for what's going to happen when they're left alone. She holds her hand out. "Um, yeah, sorry. We are. I'm Katniss Everdeen."
Peeta laughs but takes her hand anyway. "Yeah, I know who you are, Katniss. We had a ton of classes together." Then, looking slightly unsure, he clears his throat. "I'm Peeta Mellark."
"I know," she admits, and then lets go of his hand, a little mortified. She hopes he doesn't notice the way that she wipes her sweating palm on her dress. The last thing she needs is to look nervous or weak today. Or ever, really, she guesses. She'll start with today, though. "This is my mother, and my sister, Prim."
He introduces himself to them as if he thinks they weren't listening before. Which she guesses is probably a better first impression than it would be if he had just assumed that they heard. Does he really think that there's anyone in District Twelve that doesn't know who he is? Especially with the extra rumors that have been circulating about him. Her stomach knots in on itself when she remembers what she had heard. She had assumed his birthday passed ages ago, and that his family's ultimatum was largely exaggerated.
"Prim," he says once he's made sure that they both know how good it is to meet them. "That's short for Primrose, right?"
Her sister nods eagerly.
"We put those on cakes at the bakery. Made of frosting, I mean. They're some of my favorites."
Prim laughs, suddenly shy.
Katniss thinks of her sister, only a few years younger, stopping to look in the windows of the bakery every chance she would get. Remembers staying there as long as Prim wanted, or until Mrs. Mellark tried chasing them away with a broom, complaining about dirty seam brats leaving fingerprints on her clean windows even though Katniss always made sure her sister never touched the glass.
She wonders if Peeta knows about that. Is that what Prim is remembering, too? Or is she just overwhelmed at the idea of a boy talking to her? She can't tell.
"What grade are you in, Primrose?" he asks, and Prim starts to talk about her first few days in the high school building. He responds with an anecdote about his first experience there, or, well, the beginning of an anecdote, because then Katniss notices the line that's forming at the desk and clears her throat. He looks over at her, trailing off. She doesn't want to interrupt him, because her sister is practically eating out of the palm of his hand, but she knows that she has to.
"I think it's time," she announces, and Peeta doesn't argue with her, just glances over at the other side of the room and nods. He says his goodbyes to her family, assuring Prim that high school isn't as scary as it seems, even if it is more work, and then stands off to the side to allow her space while she says her goodbyes. This is something they've done maybe five times already, this group hug between the three of them. Her sister is sniffling, and Katniss wills herself to be strong.
"You'll be okay," she says, half to her sister and half to herself. "I'll see you again soon, all right? I'll make Peeta come visit."
"I like that dress on you, by the way," Peeta says as they head for the line. "I should have said something earlier."
She shakes her head, because it isn't a big deal, and sort of pulls at the bottom of it. "It was my mother's. Doesn't fit right."
"Could've fooled me," Peeta says with a smile. "I know what you mean, though. This suit was my father's. And my brother's. And then my other brother's. And I think it went to a cousin at some point, too. I caught a lucky break when Rye stained the undershirt and I got to have my own. I'm pretty sure it's the only part that fits right." He pinches at the extra fabric around his shoulders, as if trying to prove his point.
She's probably supposed to smile or laugh or do something, but all she can really manage is a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat that she supposes might be able to be interpreted as a chuckle. Maybe her sister is slightly better at this than she is.
Either way, he's silent until they reach the front of the line and get sent to the small room where they're meant to sign their paperwork. She still doesn't understand, even being inside it for the first time, why her family couldn't be allowed to come back with them. Unless it was a capacity issue, in which case, surely one or two of the Peacekeepers stationed in the room could find something better to do. She can't remember the last time she's heard of someone trying not to sign. Maybe this is why, though. The guns would make it pretty hard to run.
So, for this moment, it's just her, Peeta, a couple of Peacekeepers, and the attendant, who thrusts a bunch of paperwork at Peeta when he tells him their names and then turns back to whatever it is that he was doing at the computer. Katniss gets a glance at it and thinks that it looks like some sort of animated card game. It wouldn't surprise her. This job isn't particularly labor-intensive.
Peeta takes two pens from the little cup on the counter and holds them out to Katniss so she can have first choice, and then he starts to divvy up the paperwork until they have stacks that look like they're about even. She prepared herself for a lot of signing, based on the warnings she got from well meaning folks that noticed how close she was getting to the end of her countdown. The amount of paper is no surprise, really.
What she didn't prepare herself for, though, was a familiar name scrawled in unfamiliar handwriting on the space marked father on her birth certificate. Her breath catches in her throat and she runs her fingers over the ink. It's too old to smear, of course, but there's something oddly comforting about the indentations on the paper. She had wanted so badly to wear his jacket today, but her sister told her she looked pretty without it and somehow convinced her to put it in the box that the Peacekeepers brought to her new house today. Wherever that is. Peeta is moving much more quickly than she is, so she signs it in the space that's been left for her and moves on, hoping that maybe she won't have to see the name Peeta Mellark anywhere near her father's name. She's not sure she could handle that today, though there is a spot for spousethat's been left empty for him.
The Capitol claims that the matches are made before either party has reached the age of five. Katniss isn't entirely sure that they don't just pull the names from a ball, no matter how many documentaries she's had to sit through in school about the process.
Peeta slides his stack over to her when he's finished, and she hands hers over as well. This is when she gets her first glimpse of his handwriting. It's much nicer than hers. Flowing and elegant. Cursive. She didn't realize people actually used cursive other than when they're forced to for school. Peeta does, obviously, she must have a lot to learn about him. Maybe about kids from Town in general.
She doesn't have too much time to dwell on this, though. There's a house to sign for, her name to change, a packet to collect. Katniss Everdeen, Katniss Everdeen, Katniss Everdeen, Katniss Mellark.
Her pen stumbles on the second L, but other than that, she manages to make it through mostly unscathed. Peeta chuckles beside her and she looks up, surprised to see that he's been watching her. She knew her handwriting wasn't quite as good as his, but she can't figure out why he would laugh.
"Sorry. It's just Katniss Mellark. I never would have thought," he explains.
"Oh," she says, studying it for a moment and wondering how in the world it's ever going to look anything but alien. "Me neither."
"It sounds nice," he announces, and she has to study him to make sure he's not kidding. "What?" he asks. "It does. I like it."
She doesn't argue. There's no point, really. Peeta gathers the paper up and taps the stack on the desk to straighten it before he hands it over to the attendant, who asks if they've activated yet. They both shake their heads and Peeta is told that he may now kiss the bride, but he doesn't.
Instead, he just stands there and stares at her for a long moment, eyes going from her lips to her eyes. Katniss can hear the attendant tapping his nails against the desk, waiting for them to do something, and thinks of the Peacekeepers in the corners of the room before she steps forward, closes the space between them, and practically mashes her lips against his. She doesn't think herself to be a particularly good kisser. For a few reasons, one being that what she just did to Peeta kind of hurt her face, and another being that she hasn't had much experience. Granted, Gale had kissed her a few days before he signed his paperwork. But that was almost even worse than this kiss. He was angry and she could tell.
Her lack of experience doesn't seem to bother Peeta too much, though. His breath hitches, and his eyes are closed by the time their timer starts to sing that song again. They both know better than to pull away before the music is over. He smells like cinnamon and something else that she can't place. She wonders if maybe he was baking before he left for the Justice Building. He's kissing her back. She can't help but to think that she might be thinking too much. He's much more gentle than she had been. She thinks that he's smiling a little. Is that allowed? Can you smile when you kiss someone?
Once it's finally over, they pose for a photograph and get offered a flat congratulations and a thick envelope that contains everything about their new lives. Peeta hands it to Katniss as they're ushered out through the back door, and Katniss can't help but to notice the fact that his timer now proudly displays Katniss Mellark instead of a row of numbers or dashes. That should make him happy, considering how good he thought the name sounded. Katniss, on the other hand, feels slightly lightheaded at the sight of it.
She goes to sit down on the steps, and Peeta stops her with a hand on her arm. She jerks away from his touch, but he just pulls his jacket off and sets it down so she can rest on it. "Like I said," he explains when he sees her looking at the jacket. "It's a nice dress."
He has a point. And normally, she would tell him not to bother, but Prim will want to wear this dress when she gets married, and Katniss doesn't want to ruin it, so she thanks him and sits down. It's raining, but the little awning over the steps protects them from it. She wonders if maybe they would be able to wait it out. Peeta sits down on the other side of the steps, making sure that there's enough room between them for someone to be able to leave if they had to. He's in no hurry to get going, in fact, he lets out a deep breath that almost makes it seem like he's as exhausted by this whole thing as she is. She opens the envelope, pulls the piece of paper with the keys attached out, and decides that she won't be the one to tell Peeta where they're moving. She'll let him it read it for himself.
Notes:
Massive thanks to Bethanie (Gentlemama on Tumblr) for betaing for me at the very last minute and for helping infinitely with the title. And to Swishy and all of her followers for convincing me that this fic was one that needed to be continued.
There's a teeny tiny little Gadge prequel that I posted on AO3 ages ago (The World Owes Us Nothing), so if the concept seems familiar, then that's why. Okay thank you for reading and if you want to be ahead of the curve next time I post a fic then you should consider following me on tumblr. I'm arollercoasterthatonlygoesup over there as well. :)